Secrets And Lies
by eleanoralovesananias
Summary: A collection of oneshots involving character secrets. So far, the first one is incredibly violent and the second one is incredibly depressing. But don't worry, the third one's fun!
1. The American Tempest

Secrets And Lies

America stopped outside the meeting room door. He took a deep breath, forcing his fists to uncurl and his teeth to unclench. Damn that British bastard. He'd already taken his liberty, his family, his money and most of his self-esteem, the least he could do was trade! But no! England was too good for him, too good for his trade or anything... more. Like he didn't try! How was he supposed to remember every fucking grammar rule in the entire fucking English language?! Why was it England's business what he ate?!

America sucked in a breath, reminding himself to be good and just keep smiling. __Just keep smiling.__ Then he opened the door and stepped inside.

Instantly, his usual boisterous, energetic grin plastered itself across his face. "Hey everybody!" he announced. "I'm the HERO!"

Everyone sighed as usual, and as usual, he pretended not to notice. But he couldn't not see the way his brother, his once-upon-a-time love, rolled his eyes and muttered something. His grin tightened.

Controlling himself, America went into the usual routine, the one he had based off of a comedy show at some Vermont coffee shop. The one he had drilled into his brain until even __he__ had a hard time believing he wasn't a loud, happy-go-lucky, hamburger-loving idiot. The one he had learned in order to protect himself.  
But in the middle of Part 3, the random stupid ideas about saving the world, England interrupted him. "You idiot," the Brit taunted. It was clear he had had a bad day and was just spoiling for a fight. "You're the lowest, slimiest worm I ever met." America focused on his breathing.__Remember what the therapist__ __said. In, out, in, out. Just breathe.__ "You really know nothing, don't you?" England continued. "Nothing about running a country. You're so stupid, it's funny." America felt a roaring begin in his ears. His entire body trembled with the effort of holding back the thousand volts of pure rage coursing through him.

England added with a slight curl to his lip, "You know why it's funny? Because when you were younger, I actually __wanted__ you as a colony."

America exploded. His vision went red, splashes of blood spattering his glasses and England's screams of pain and shock and terror audible in his ears, but faint compared to the tempest that filled his mind and his body, his incredible strength not just breaking bones, but shattering them into innumerable pieces like glass. He released all his fury, all his bitterness, everything he had bottled up for so long. Without it he felt weak and empty. Without it he cried and could not stop crying.


	2. Why I Hate Germans

Why I Hate Germans

Romano sat in his room, knees pulled up to his chest. He was ten years old, and Grandpa was fighting another war.

The boy fingered his tunic and fidgeted. He hated it when Grandpa went to fight alone. He knew how to fight, Rome had trained him! What if Grandpa needed help? But Grandpa had been doing that more and more lately; going off to war without letting him come. He was worried.

And when he heard barbarians breaking through the walls of the great city of Rome, he was suddenly a lot more worried.

Romano grabbed his sword and burst out of his room, ready to defend the city, armor or no armor. His little brother Feliciano had run out into the hall, looking terrified. Romano pushed the younger boy, who was seven, back into the bedroom and hissed, "Stay put! Don't worry, I promise everything's going to be OK." Feliciano nodded and sat down. The trust on the boy's face made Romano hope he could keep that promise.

The ten-year-old boy ran out into the streets, holding his sword vertically the way Grandpa had taught him. He leaped over the body of a soldier and stabbed a tall, long-haired man. _Germans? Germans are invading? But Rome and Germania are friends now! Germania works for Rome!_

The battle was deafening, even from this far away. But there was no sound on God's sweet earth than the one that would haunt Romano's nightmares for centuries after that day.

He heard the awful sound, inaudible to humans, of a country dissolving.

Rome had fallen.


	3. I Wanna Hold Your Hand

I Wanna Hold Your Hand

Russia stood on Belarus's doorstep, taking deep breaths. It was time. Time to stop hiding, stop running, and tell her the truth. And if that meant hurting her... so be it.

He knocked. There was no answer. Cautiously, he pressed his ear to the door. It sounded like... music. Finding the door unlocked, the tall nation bent over to avoid hitting his head and went inside.

Russia was surprised to find it a pretty, almost normal house. The walls were painted blue, except for one which had a scene of a field of sunflowers. He found himself wondering whether she too liked sunflowers, or if she had painted it that way to appeal to _him_. The whole room was filled with the sound of trickling water. At a closer look, he saw that each wall was riddled with thousand of tiny holes. Water poured out and collected in basins along the floor. Dipping a finger in the water he found it warm. _How on earth does she heat it up in the winter?_ He could hear the music clearly now. It sounded almost...almost like Amerika's "rock and roll". A ridiculous name for a ridiculous thing, like all of Amerika's ideas. Russia followed the sound down the hallway - and found himself confronted with a tie-dyed bead curtain. It showed a peace sign below the words, "Because a door is too mainstream."

The country blinked. The more he saw, the less sense it made. None of it - the blue-painted walls, the warm water, the music, the bead curtain - fit with what he knew about Belarus. But now that he thought about it...how much _did_ he know about Belarus?

Russia brushed aside the bead curtain - and froze, mouth hanging open in shock.

Belarus was standing there, back to him. Wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt and cut-offs. Dancing to_ American music_. She looked like she was having fun, too.

When the song finally ended, she turned around, sweaty, grinning - and froze. "B-big b-brother?"

They stood that way for some time.


End file.
